


so nothing's left untouched

by twelvemorestopsandhome



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvemorestopsandhome/pseuds/twelvemorestopsandhome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had not expected him to survive. Just has he had not expected her to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so nothing's left untouched

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on a prompt I got months ago! The style is a little different...you'll see! You can find me on tumblr at twelvemorestopsandhome :)

She had not expected him to survive. Just as he had not expected her to. But they are both quiet survivors and it amuses Anne in a twisted sort of way that it should be them to be here still when so many have perished over the decades.

They had attempted to make their peace with each other the evening before he rode out to meet Tudor on the battlefield. It was their second chance to say everything they hadn't when they both believed Anne would die months earlier. In the end though, she said little and he said even less.

But when he came to her door later that night she let him into her bed in lieu of a proper goodbye and cried when he told her that he loved her.

  
He falls on his knees before her, dried blood still smeared on his tired face and looks up at her like she had looked at him on a battlefield so many years ago, his eyes wider and clearer than she's seen them in years. The bells are ringing in victory in the city and she can hear the people cheering outside the castle walls. Relief rushes through her and for the first time in months she realises and accepts the most basic of truths, that she didn't want him to die. They stare at each other for the longest time, totally in awe that the they are both still here and together. “Long live the king” she whispers to him as if it were a secret.

*

Between the heavy losses at Bosworth and the cleansing as Anne refers to it, the court proper is all but non-existent for many days after the victory. But they are rarely alone as individuals and families are brought in a constant stream to face judgement by the king. Richard wishes his court to be reborn and that the country will follow in turn. It acts as a demonstration of unity between him and Anne. “Let no man doubt my loyalty and devotion to my queen” he says to the lords gathered and they bow before her. But the initial relief has worn off and he looks at her now as if she were a ghost, as if he were spooked by her presence.

Anne doesn't feel like a ghost. She feels stronger, more present, more alive than she has in months. She doesn't yearn for the past the way she did. Doesn't lament about the time before she was queen. This is the way of things, the choices she has made and ones that were made for her have brought her here and is she learning to accept that. And she thrives at this rebuilding of court. She knows every lord and lady by name, knows their children and lands, their allies and enemies. She is a Neville after all, diplomacy is in her blood and as hardened as her husband has become, he can be weak to words of loyalty and honour and fail to see true nature of a petitioner.

“Thank God I am here” she thinks.

“Thank God you are here” he thinks.

*

This new England drags them away from each other with Richard spending much time in the North and Anne progressing among the southern regions “divide and conquer” Richard had written to her and it felt more intimate than many conversations they had had since his victory. Another secret. As if this were something only the two of them could achieve. The people want peace. No more contenders to the throne, no more divides between power. Richard and Anne have defied death, that's what the people are saying. They've survived against all odds and now the people flock to see their king and queen.

*

They break in front of each other without wishing to. Up close, they see the cracks in each other and attempt to repair them.

His hair is plastered to his face with sweat when she enters his chamber and his body thrashes under the cocoon of blankets. Soothing words flow from her like a sonnet as he grips her with a force that hurts but only in the way it should.

He finds her in the chapel, hands clasped tightly to her chest. He kneels beside her, making the sign of the cross. She doesn't look up but shifts slightly to allow him more space on the stool. She doesn't pray often, has had trouble believing God has been present for many events in her life. He is truly intrigued at this change of attitude as he leans in to her “what are you praying for, love?”

“That god has mercy on our souls for the wicked we have done.”

They begin to show each other their scars again, both visible and invisible.

  
*

 

They sit at opposite ends of the dining table, food half eaten, candles flickering, unsure of the time of day. Anne's hair is down and her legs are pulled up underneath her, Richard is slumped in his chair, legs stretched out on the chair beneath the table in front of him. It's a silly sort of casual.

“This feels like a dream” she says suddenly and her tone tells him she doesn't mean it as words of romance.

Richard nods languidly “It's as if we've lived a thousand lives.”

“Each one stranger than the last” Anne laughs dryly.

“And now we get to live one more” Richard says slowly and it sounds like a question.

They are a part of each other. Their lives, their stories have always been so intwined that even death had chosen not to separate them. Not this time. There are many things that need saying. At least, they had needed saying. When they believed Anne was dying, before Richard rode to battle, they had not being said then and they are not being said now. Words of love and devotion of penance and regret. Now is the time, an impossible time that they are only just beginning to truly accept they've been granted but still, the words do not come. And that more than anything gives them hope. For those words are meant for finality, for peace before the end.

This is not the end.

She smiles and is no longer a ghost to him.

 

 

 

 


End file.
